


Acquiesence

by Kitashi



Series: Through Eyes of Courts and Fate [20]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOWAR Chapter 13/14, Elucien Referenced, Feysand mentioned in passing, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 19:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11653326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitashi/pseuds/Kitashi
Summary: End of Chapter 13 - beginning of Chapter 14 of ACOWAR from Lucien’s POV.Lucien arrives in the Night Court with Feyre, but what did he and the Inner Circle do while Feyre and Rhys were reuniting?





	Acquiesence

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I know it’s been awhile since I’ve managed to write anything; ACOWAR really disappointed me/took the wind out of my sails for fic, & its been hard to find a way to deal with the now canon mess we were left with after it was released. I honestly still have trouble with it, & I don’t know if it will ever be something I will actually like.
> 
> In an attempt to try to work with it though (& after constantly tinkering with it because it never felt completely right), I decided to go back to my roots and try another Lucien POV; he was the first one I wrote for when I started writing fic for this fandom, and considering how little page time/respect he got in ACOWAR, if there was anyone who could benefit from fic, it would be my favorite fox <3
> 
> I hope you guys like it! Who knows, maybe there will be more fic in the future. My sister _did_ give me a very Amarantha-esque song from The Vampire Diaries last night that gave me all sorts of ideas ;)
> 
> This is heavily spoilerific for ACOWAR, so if you haven't read it & want to remain unspoiled, I suggest stopping now!
> 
> With that said, enjoy! <3

I had never seen Eris look so fearful in all of my life. Feyre’s words rang through icy tundra of Winter, the swirling tattoo I’d thought gone now stark against the pale skin of her other hand. 

_ I am High Lady of the Night Court.  _ That was what she had said to him. I would have been lying if I said I was not as surprised as the brothers I barely knew, who had hesitated when they no longer had the upper hand. I was being carried by Azriel, the Shadowsinger I had seen near death in Hybern weeks ago, and we were ignoring each other—and the awkward situation of him having to carry me—with great efficiency. But I was too grateful to not be running and had too much to think about to really let it bother me. Feyre was being carried by the Illyrian Commander that had his wings shredded, but judging from how Cassian now flew ahead of us, he was healed and back to normal. I heard a peal of laughter—could see Feyre throw her arms around his neck, see her joy and relief. On the other hand, I wasn't sure where they were taking us, or if I would be thrown in a cell and tortured upon arrival. Feyre didn't seem worried, and though I tried to let that calm my nerves, the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach wouldn't go away. Azriel flew slower for whatever reason, though it was clear he was no less capable than his fellow Illyrian, and we had fallen behind the others. “Thank you.” The Shadowsinger’s quiet voice startled me.

“For what?”

“Bringing our Lady home.”

Before I could say anything else, we banked suddenly. The border of the Winter Court loomed ahead, where it and the neutral, lawless land that divided Prythian in half was easily the best thing I had seen since we had left the Spring Court. I could see a blonde woman that I recognized from our confrontation in Hybern standing on the neutral side. The Morrigan’s expression was stoic and she watched us carefully. We had barely touched down before she practically grabbed Feyre from Cassian, enveloping her in a hug that would have been bone crushing were she still human. It was moments like this that reminded me that Feyre was no longer the Fae hating huntress that had killed Andras—she return the hug with just as much enthusiasm. The leathers she wore matched the Illyrians behind me, making her a devastating blend of deadly beauty.  _ She  _ had been the one to singlehandedly take out our sentries when Feyre had been taken away all those months ago, and I had no doubt that she would be a force to be reckoned with in a fight. I began to wonder if I would have been safer left on the tundra.

When she finally released Feyre, her gaze drifted to me gravely, as though she were determining whether I was a threat or perhaps a potential prisoner.

“He fought against Eris and the other two,” Cassian said breaking the silence. An explanation for my unexpected presence.

She tensed and swallowed hard. “Eris,” she blurted out, the tension in her voice thick and at odds with the image she portrayed. “Did you—” 

“He remains alive,” Azriel answered. “So do the others.” I could see shadows curling at the clawed tip of his massive wings, a dark and deep seated rage made manifest. I knew that something had happened with Eris and the Night Court centuries ago, but I had never found out the details. From the looks on their faces, it involved the two Illyrians and the woman before me, and knowing Eris's personality, it wasn't hard to put the pieces together. Morrigan tossed her mass of golden hair over her shoulder, her face a perfect mask.

“Then let's go home.” Home. To the Night Court. It suddenly occurred to me that in my single minded quest to find and save my mate, I’d never fully thought through exactly  _ where _ I had been following Feyre to, or what fate could possibly await me as a member of the Spring Court once we arrived.

“Which one?” Feyre asked carefully. The woman turned towards me and gave me a stare that made me feel like she was looking at my soul instead of me. It was not a comforting feeling.

“The town house,” she said to her after a long moment, as if I had passed some sort of test. “You have someone waiting there for you.”

~~

Morrigan winnowed all five of us at once—a testament to the depth of her power, though she panted from the exertion. When she had said a town house, I imagined it would be somewhere under that northern mountain that I knew held the inspiration for Amarantha's cursed court.

But it looked so…  _ normal _ . A dining room and sitting room filled with plush furniture overlooking a little front yard and a city street. Stairs and a hallway that led to somewhere that looked like a kitchen. And a shut front door that had light shining through the window, making colors dance on the rugs at our feet.

This was supposed to be the Night Court—the Court of  _ Nightmares— _ and instead of darkness… instead of agonizing screams and wickedness…

“There are children laughing in the streets,” I said, unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice as I looked at the people before me. I hadn't heard children laughing so carefreely since—

Jesminda. Since those days before everything went to hell and I sought sanctuary in Spring. 

A small woman with short black hair and unearthly silver eyes emerged from the sitting room at that moment, her expression bored and even a little grumpy. “That they do so at all after Hybern’s attack is a testament to how hard the people of Velaris have worked to rebuild.” She turned to Feyre and bowed her head. “I see you brought home a new pet,” she said as she looked at me, her nose crinkling in distaste. 

Amren. The Second of the Night Court. I bowed deeply to her, trying to curb my fear at being in the presence of the woman who was a story told to Autumn Court children to make them behave. I heard someone—likely Cassian—make an amused grunt, but I didn't care.

“Already trained, I see,” she said. I straightened and could see a hint of a smile on her face.

“Amren, this is Lucien… Vanserra,” Feyre said by way of introduction. I stiffened. I’d never told her that name, and I wondered how she suddenly knew it.

“I don't use my family’s name,” I clarified with another bow of my head. “Lucien will do.”

Amren gave me harder look, specifically at my metal eye. “Clever work,” she said appreciatively before turning to Feyre as though I wasn't there. I wasn't complaining. “Looks like someone clawed you up, girl.” There wasn't an ounce of deference in her voice, and Feyre didn't seem to expect it.

“What is this place?” I found myself asking before Feyre could answer her. Everyone looked at me.

“Home,” Feyre answered after a long moment. “This is—my home.”

_ Home. _ This bright, comfortable looking house. Not a palace, or even a manor like Tamlin.

“This is Velaris,” she explained. “The City of Starlight.”

The city that the mortal queens had given the name of to Hybern _.  _ The one absent from all recorded maps and memory.  _ I left of my own free will.  _ Feyre's letter to Tamlin had read. _ I am cared for and safe. I am grateful for all that you did for me, all that you gave. Please don’t come looking for me. I’m not coming back. _

She had told us. If this was where she had been when she sent it, I wouldn't have come back to the Spring Court willingly either.

I swallowed hard. “And you are High Lady of the Night Court.” The title sounded foreign on my tongue.

“Indeed she is,” a familiar voice drawled. Feyre froze at the sound, the look in her eyes one of cautious hope. The others in the room, even Amren, smiled as she turned towards the doorway where Rhys leaned nonchalantly, wearing that irritating half smirk he always did and his ever present black attire. He didn't give any of us so much as a second glance—didn't question why Tamlin’s emissary was in his territory. But as he looked at Feyre, I saw that smile fade into concern and joy and something else I couldn't name.

Feyre let out a broken noise and fell to her knees, her hands covering her face. Before anyone could take a step in her direction, Rhys was on the floor in front of her, knees touching. Gently, he pulled her hands away from her face.

“My love,” he murmured and kissed her, clearly not caring that they had an audience. Feyre seemed to share the sentiment as she slid her hands into his hair, melting into him, her eyes closed and completely uninterested in the world around her. I wanted to look away, but couldn't. Rhys scooped her up smoothly as they broke apart. Never taking his eyes off of her, nor she him, he said, “Go find somewhere else to be for awhile.” Without waiting for an answer, the two of them winnowed out of sight, leaving me in the hands of the four people who regularly did the bidding of the only High Lord who could compare to my father in cruelty. Before I could say anything, Morrigan pulled me towards her and nodded to the others before winnowing us out of the house.

~~

We appeared in a cluttered looking apartment that looked like a windstorm had gone through it. Papers were strewn and stacked everywhere, some under an egg shaped ruby and others under collections of mugs that had a dried rust colored substance I didn't want to think about. And the  _ jewelry _ . The bed alone qualified as a dragon’s treasure hoard, and as Amren took a seat amongst the gold and jewels, I could see her resembling one.

“I can't believe Rhys kicked us out to fuck Feyre,” Cassian laughed, taking a seat on a stool at the counter. He leaned on his forearms with a lazy smile. “He didn't waste any time.”

“What did you expect? They have a new mating bond and they've been separated for over a month,” Azriel reasoned.

“Honestly, I'm surprised he lasted that long,” Amren said bluntly, studying a brooch with a disinterested eye.

Morrigan threw her curls over her shoulder and sat down on a plush chair, her lips curled in amusement. “Or that he was courteous enough to tell us to leave.”

“How are you all okay with this?” I asked incredulously. 

They all turned to me in unison, as if they just realized that there was another person—an intruder really—in their midst.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow. “Okay with what?”

“Leaving Feyre with Rhys after all she's been through.”

“There is no one else we  _ would _ leave her with,” Cassian said, his tone matter of fact. He gestured to Azriel. “As our brother, I would trust Rhys with my life. As her mate, Feyre would—”

“A mating bond doesn't make you a perfect match,” I argued. “Rhys hasn't done anything to prove himself worthy of Feyre. He can control—”

“Those are some bold words for someone with such a small and narrow view, Lucien Vanserra. And you were the Spring Court’s emissary?” Cassian commented from his seat. His barely veiled mocking made me cringe almost as much as my family's name did. I hadn't heard it this much in such a short period of time in centuries.

But I couldn't stop myself from asking, “What reason would I have to believe any different?”

“Rhys would never do anything to intentionally harm Feyre,” Mor replied, her voice betraying nothing. “He’s not Tamlin.”

He absolutely wasn't. For all that Tamlin didn't listen, he could never be worse than that bastard. Tamlin didn't dress get Feyre drunk and up in gauze and cobwebs to dance in his lap. He didn't let anything happen to her—

Except he had. He had gotten her drunk on faerie wine at the Summer Solstice. He sent her away with no explanation when he could have saved us all by accepting she loved him. He hadn't stopped her from coming back and getting trapped Under the Mountain. He didn't do anything when she was beaten and tormented before him. Tamlin had beaten me at Amarantha’s orders. He let Rhys take Feyre on their wedding day and then sold the Spring Court out to Hybern to get her back. 

I swallowed hard. “Tamlin didn't try to—”

“He didn't have to  _ try _ ,” Azriel interrupted, his voice quiet but powerful. “There are many ways to harm someone—to control them. You don't have to be a daemati to utterly destroy them.”

“It certainly doesn't hurt though,” I snapped back.

Before I could so much as blink, I was slammed up against the wall, the telltale edge of a very sharp blade angled against my throat. I dared to look and found the cold, wrathful gaze of the Shadowsinger staring at me, and knew I’d finally pushed my luck too far.

“Let’s get something straight, Vanserra,” Cassian said coldly. He stood up from his stool and crossed his arms. “The only reason you are alive right now is because of Feyre. We could have left you on the ice with your pathetic brothers, but instead of being grateful you were spared, you insult our High Lord and High Lady—the very reasons you are currently not rotting in a dungeon in the Hewn City.”

“I didn't insult Feyre.” Despite everything, she’d been one of the few I could trust. I couldn't say that of Tamlin anymore. Not after watching him wield his whip against an innocent sentry at that harpy Ianthe’s command, as though she were the High Lady of Spring. 

“You’re not helping yourself,” he growled.

“You weren't Under the Mountain,” I bit out. “None of you were. You didn't see what he did to her there.” The memory of Rhys holding Feyre’s waist, her drunk on faerie wine and dancing between his legs as he laughed with Amarantha's cohorts flashed through my head. If anything, he was no better than Tamlin, but certainly had the capacity to be worse.

“No,” Morrigan said calmly, “we weren't. Rhys ensured we were kept out. But I know what happened. There is no one in this city who is not aware of the sacrifices our High Lord made for their safety.”

“Do you though? Did he tell you the things he did? Or what he put Feyre through? How about what he was to Amarantha?” I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, but I couldn't find it in myself to care. If they were going to kill me eventually anyway, I could at least anger them enough to make it quick. Judging from the cold, calculated anger in Azriel’s eyes, I knew I'd have to hope for Cassian.

“I know the sacrifices he made to ensure their safety, and yours and Tamlin's as well,” Morrigan replied evenly.

“He didn't do anything for our safety,” I snapped.

“You have no idea the sacrifices Rhys made, the things he did, when eyes weren't on him. He was willing to do  _ anything _ to get her and those she loved out of there alive, even if she hated him as a result. That includes you and Tamlin.” She narrowed her eyes. “And  _ you  _ let your High Lord neglect her until she was so broken that we almost couldn't bring her back.”

“I—” My defense died in my throat.

“Feyre has made enough sacrifices. I think we both can agree with that?” She looked at me expectantly, and I nodded as much as the knife would allow. “She is perfectly matched to Rhys in that respect,” Morrigan continued. “Neither of them will let anyone help if they think it will put someone they love in danger.” While I knew she wasn't wrong, there was still the reason I had followed Feyre all this way.

“Then where is my mate?” I asked, my bravado gone. All I felt was bone deep weariness. “Is… is Elain safe?” I wouldn't believe anything until I saw her. Until I saw that Jurian had lied—that she was unharmed. 

“Let’s get one thing straight, fox-boy,” Cassian answered. “You are only here because of Feyre's good will. Demanding answers from us, especially after insulting our High Lord, will get you nowhere. For whatever reason, Feyre chose to take you along, but that doesn't mean that you are immediately welcome here.” 

“She saved me,” I said softly. “From Ianthe and Hybern. I do not let my debts go unpaid. And after—” I swallowed hard. “After what happened in Hybern, I needed to see my mate.”

A silence filled the room, and when I looked up, I could see an understanding in their eyes. As if they knew. But they couldn't know, and their looks of pity only made everything worse.

“Let me ask you something, Lucien,” Morrigan said quietly. “If Elain had been taken by Beron, what would you have done? Would you have let her be used as leverage against you?”

“Never,” I growled without hesitation. “I would have ripped him and anyone else who got in my way apart with my bare hands.”

“And if you thought she didn't want you, would you do it anyway?” she pressed. “If you thought she was in danger?” 

“Whether we are matched or not, I would want to see for myself she is okay. I would make sure she was safe.” I didn't understand where she was going with this, but from her triumphant smile, I apparently had said what she wanted. They all exchanged glances, and I felt Azriel's knife leave my throat. I let out a sigh of relief.

“If only you could have understood that earlier for Rhys and Feyre’s sake,” Cassian said finally. “If she allows you to see her sister  _ and _ Elain wants to see you, we won't stop her. But if you put so much as one toe out of line…” He glanced at Azriel, who gave an almost imperceptible nod, still palming his dagger. “We may not be in the Hewn City, but we still have ways of making you suffer. And we will make good on that threat.” The Shadowsinger gave me a look that promised endless torment, and I didn't doubt for a second he would follow through and enjoy it.

“Elain is my mate,” I reiterated softly. “I would never hurt her.”

“If you are about finished threatening our new pet, how about letting him wash the dirt and blood off?” Amren said suddenly, her voice cutting through the room, reminding everyone of her presence. I turned to see those silver eyes fixated on me. “As much as I enjoy the latter, it's of no use to me dried.”

I barely suppressed my shudder and she smirked. “There is a basin over there,” she said, jerking her head towards the simple sink. “It will have to suffice until you can get properly cleaned up.”

“Well, I suggest he hurry,” Morrigan interjected, “It seems our Lord and Lady have decided to leave the welcome home marathon for another time. We can go back now, and you can discuss your requests with them.” I nodded and walked over to the small basin, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror. I looked like absolute hell. My hair was in knots and snarls, and I was splattered with what I was sure was more than just my blood and a layer of grime and dirt. I washed off the worst of it from my hands and face as the others waited for me. The water felt good against my skin, and I couldn't wait until I could be properly clean again. I did my best to ignore the voice in my head that suggested that I’d be thrown in a cell before I got that chance.

“I wonder if the townhouse will still be standing,” Cassian said innocently as I dried my hands and face, though when I turned to look at him, his grin gave him away. “Rhys is lucky that the cabin is in the middle of nowhere. That avalanche he caused when they first mated—” Mor elbowed him hard in the ribs, effectively shutting him up, but his unabashed grin made it clear he wasn't the least bit sorry. I scowled at him, but he didn't spare me another glance as we winnowed back, and I waited to see what the eddies of the Cauldron had in store for me.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! All comments and suggestions are welcome, & if you have a POV/scene you would really like to see, please let me know! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, I have a writing Tumblr! If anyone is interested in talking & discussing ACOTAR, ACOMAF, or giving suggestions/asking questions, I can be found at _<http://kitashiwrites.tumblr.com>_.
> 
> Hope to see you there!


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